


You're My Distraction

by CeliaEquus



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: A prompt but not a prompt, Capsicoul - Freeform, Get Together, M/M, Oblivious!Phil, Seduction, virtually pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeliaEquus/pseuds/CeliaEquus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on Tumblr tags. Steve keeps drawing attention to his mouth in the most delightful, frustrating ways. Phil doesn't know how much more he can take this. Who'll make the first move?</p><p>Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this.</p><p>*EDIT*  I've been asked to post the links, so here they are.<br/>Eyebrow of Doom: http://askcapsicoul.tumblr.com/post/42844212231/chris-evans-left-eyebrow<br/>9 Pictures of Chris Evans: http://cap-coulson.tumblr.com/post/42656758498/stephguz-i-dont-know-any-form-of-art-or</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Distraction

Debriefings were becoming a new kind of torture. Really. Biting nails, chewing on the end of a pen, chewing his bottom lip itself. Every little thing ensured that his mouth was always red and shiny and just a little bit moist. And his focus was always on Phil. Captain America could parrot back whatever he was told, could take it all in without even a thought. But Steve Rogers… yeah, this behaviour was all Steve Rogers.

"Yes, Agent Coulson, sir?" he said.

"Can you confirm how much ammunition was used in total?"

"All forms of ammunition, sir?"

"Anything SHIELD or Stark Industries will need to account for and replace. Improvised weapons don't count."

Steve licked his lips before he started to give a complete rundown. His gaze never strayed from Phil's; the agent cleared his throat at the end.

"Thank you for that, Rogers," he said.

"Roger that," Tony mumbled.

"Really, Tony?" Steve said, raising an eyebrow. There was a clatter as Phil dropped his pen. The movement was so fleeting that it was back in his hand a split second after making contact with the glass-like surface. Steve's eyebrow crept higher. "You okay, sir?"

"Just fine, Captain."

Tony sniggered; Natasha hit the back of his head.

"Are you sure, sir?" Steve asked earnestly. "You're not sick are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Cool." And Steve beamed, a smile so full that probably all his teeth were on display. Phil stared at him, lips slightly parted.

"On the other hand, maybe I need to see medical," he said. "If there is nothing else to add, then I expect your full reports in forty-eight hours. You will be informed if there is a need for the information sooner. Meeting dismissed."

"I'll see you to medical, Agent Coulson," Steve said, by his side as soon as they left the room.

"Thank you, but that's unnecessary, Rogers."

"Hey, it's no… is the right word 'biggie'?"

"It can be used in that context, yes."

"It's no biggie," Steve said, nodding. "Medical? Or do you just need a lie-down? Because I don't mind seeing you to your room, just to make sure that you get there safely."

Phil gave him a look of suspicion; he received a look of innocence in return. "My room it is."

They were barely in the agent's bedroom three seconds before Steve was pressing Phil up against the door.

"You're a tough nut to crack, Agent Coulson," Steve said, voice much lower than usual. "I've been waiting for you to make a move, but you're being stubborn."

"C-captain?"

"If you don't want this, tell me now, and I'll leave. I'll leave, and I'll stop gnawing on pens and my nails whenever you're around. I'll stop smiling just to make you gasp; it never works anyway. So." He was breathing heavily. "Say the word, and I stop. If not… then just kiss me."

It was a tense silence. Slowly, Steve backed off. It was a bad idea to startle someone like Phil Coulson, no matter how strong you were. Phil was one of the few people who could take him down; he'd even taken Thor down once.

Then they were kissing. They were kissing, and Phil was moving them towards his bed, small steps, clothes being tugged off.

"Sneaky son of a bitch," Phil said. "All this time you were seducing me."

"And not doing a very good job."

"Au contraire."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Steve was squinting at himself in the mirror, wearing Phil's glasses, while Phil watched from the doorway.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Just wondering," Steve said. He pushed the glasses higher up on his nose. "These for reading?"

"Reading books, yeah, and music. I don't need them for computers or reports. Some newspapers, though."

"You read music?"

"I used to play viola. My niece wanted to learn the cello, so I had to shop around to find the best private tutor. Took awhile. Found someone not long before New Mexico and the Destroyer." He wrapped his arms around Steve's waist from behind, and smiled at their reflection. "You look good in my glasses."

"And I bet you'd look even better in one of my shirts," Steve said, removing the glasses carefully. "Do you think I'll ever grow old?"

Phil leaned against the sink as Steve slid the glasses back into their leather case. "You're already timeless, Steve. At least if you live forever, you'll have Thor. Maybe even Banner."

"But I wouldn't have you."

Their eyes met.

"Come to bed," Phil murmured, holding out his hand. Steve allowed himself to be led back into the bedroom, not letting go even when they were lying down again. "I know I won't live forever; and when I go, I will go down fighting. Loki wasn't my first near-death experience, and he won't be the last."

"So you're saying we should just make the most of it while we still can?"

"'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may'."

Steve smiled softly. "Okay."

"Steve?"

"Yeah, Phil?"

"…Keep chewing on pens."

"Is that a euphemism, sir?"

"I've got to get you away from Stark."

"Not just Stark's doing, sir."

"And the internet."

"Phil, I was in the army."

"Yet, for all that you're a hardened soldier," a sly look began to make its way onto Phil's face, "I know from experience that you're… ticklish."

"…You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

Stark would barge in while they were in the middle of a naked tickle-war, wouldn't he?

"Just delivering that report," he said. "I see Steve is making his delivery. Well. Have a nice day!" He waved cheerily, and disappeared before either of them could get dressed to kill.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> What is my life, people? Really?
> 
> Based on two things:
> 
> Tags on Cap-Coulson, for a group of nine pictures of Chris Evans
> 
> Tags on AskCapsicoul, for his Eyebrow of Doom
> 
> This is how I treat tags. As prompts. (So ashamed, as always. Apparently.)
> 
> This story could be from either point-of-view; shamelessly ambiguous. I like to think that it's from Steve's POV, even the first paragraph. Other than that… this went to a few unexpected places, which keeps happening to me, by the way. Not just in fan fiction, oh no. The characters delight in taking over in my original fiction as well.
> 
> Whiney monologue over.
> 
> Please review!
> 
> (Did you see? Phil spoke French! Ooh-la-la…)


End file.
